


Bake Away Your Sorrows

by hmweasley



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Cursed Child - Thorne & Rowling
Genre: Baking, Gen, House Elves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-27
Updated: 2018-10-27
Packaged: 2019-08-08 09:39:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16426916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hmweasley/pseuds/hmweasley
Summary: Rose Granger Weasley isn't happy that her best friend and cousin has betrayed her for a Malfoy. She deals with her rejection the only way she knows how: baking.





	Bake Away Your Sorrows

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt:  
> write about someone baking

Rose glanced at the Slytherin table and stabbed a piece of her steak with more force than was necessary to spear it with her fork.

How could Albus have befriended a Malfoy with little regard for what the family had done to theirs in the past? It infuriated her that Albus had chosen Scorpius over her on the train. His father had called her mother the ‘M’ word once, and there Albus was laughing with him as if they were best friends. Albus forcing the hat to put him into Slytherin just to spite her was the cherry on top of the massive betrayal she would never be able to look past.

When she was upset, Rose had a routine, and her first several days at Hogwarts had her longing for that routine. She loved the school and had even made friends, but the loss of Albus plagued her.

She itched to get to an oven and bake. That was the only thing she knew of that would make her feel better, but Hogwarts didn’t make it easy for students to take up such pursuits as baking.

Spotting her other cousin down the Gryffindor table, she abandoned her dinner and moved to sit beside him instead. His friends greeted her, but she only offered them a slight wave of her hand in response.

“James, you know how to get into the kitchens, right?”

He laughed at the question.

“Of course. We go there at least once a week.”

“How?”

James considered her for a moment, and there was a split second where she thought he would become a protective older cousin for once in his life and not tell her. Or that he might make her repay him for the information. In the end, he was uninterested in either.

“Go down to the basement from the entrance hall. You’ll find a hallway with a bunch of food paintings. Tickle the one with a pear. It’ll let you in.”

She was already heading for the door as she yelled, “Thank you,” over her shoulder.

* * *

When she stepped inside the portrait whole, Rose marvelled at what she found. The kitchen was as big as the Great Hall, and house elves ran around everywhere. Four long, wooden tables mirrored the house tables above, and house elves were placing food at different places on the table, only for it to disappear to the tables above. She’d hardly noticed that more plates appeared on the table as the meal went on.

She felt a tug on her robes and looked down to find one of the elves looking up at her attentively but also with a bit of tension in her shoulders. It occurred to her now that she was seeing the kitchen that she’d interrupted them during one of their busiest times of work.

“Is Miss needing anything?” the elf asked.

“Er, yeah,” Rose replied with uncertainty. 

Suddenly, she wasn’t confident that the elves would let her bake anything. The kitchen was their domain and not one students were supposed to invade in any way. Still, dinner was winding down; little more food would be needed, and she was already there. There was no harm in asking.

“I was wondering if I could use one of the ovens to bake.

The elf’s eyes widened, and Rose knew in that second that she had never had to accept or deny such a request before. The elf’s eyes flickered to and fro as she tried to determine the correct course of action. When she finally spoke, it wasn’t an actual answer to Rose’s request.

“Let us know what you want, Miss, and Scamby will be getting it for you.”

Rose took a deep breath, willing herself not to give in and just take food from the elves before leaving.

“It’s not the sweets that I care about,” she said carefully, sensing this would be difficult for the elf to comprehend. “I want to bake. It’s fun for me, but I don’t have a kitchen at Hogwarts. I’d like to use yours.”

The elf stared at her for a moment before looking around for another elf to swoop in and save the day. Rose noticed that several others had approached them, each fiddling with their rags as they labored over how to answer such a request.

Had they never met a human who enjoyed baking?

When Scamby spoke again, it was in a hesitant voice.

“Scamby supposes that would be all right, Miss. What does Miss want to bake?”

“Chocolate chip cookies?” Rose said, turning it into a question without meaning to.

Scamby nodded and motioned for an older male elf to take a step forward.

“Trumie will take Miss to the oven.”

Trumie wasn’t thrilled with being assigned to her, but he gave her a long, low bow regardless.

“Scamby will be collecting ingredients, Miss.”

Scamby hurried off, probably thankful to get away from Rose. As she followed Trumie to an unoccupied oven that was large enough to bake enough cookies to feed all of Gryffindor house, Rose still wasn’t sure if she’d made the right decision. She reminded herself why she had come. Already, her escapade had made it easy to forget her anger.

She set to work with the ingredients the elves provided her with. The eyes of many of them were on her, and the crowd grew as each elf finished up their dinner duties.

As Rose got into the process, it became much easier to ignore the presence of the others. She mixed the ingredients and separated them out on trays. Her mind was focused only on the cookies. She wasn’t thinking about the house elves, and she certainly wasn’t thinking of her cousin, formerly her best friend, who would be in the Slytherin common room as she worked, cozying up with a Malfoy.

Eventually, she would have to return to reality, but for the moment, she baked. When she was done, she’d have three dozen cookies. She’d give a dozen to Hagrid and another to Neville, though she was feeling a little sour with the Herbology professor since he’d scolded her for shunning Albus.

She’d save the last dozen for herself, a small consolation prize for what she had to deal with.


End file.
